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Memories of Deception	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 20868 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Memories of Deception
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9.
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
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Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

With a flick of his wrist the curse ended. The screams of the girl on the floor died down, replaced with loud sobs as her body trembled and shook with the lingering pain. Snape knelt down beside her, grabbing her head once again and slipping inside her mind again quickly to probe her recent memories to see if she had lost any this time.

His search was futile, her memories intact as he knew they would be, but he had to keep up appearances, for her sake as well as his own. He pulled out and stood again, pacing while her gave her a minute to recover. He had increased the length of the curse each time, from a quick two second burst to fifteen that last time. One more should be enough to satisfy the Dark Lord for tonight, although he knew he would have to do more ‘tests’ before the next meeting.

Steeling himself, he turned to face her. She was no longer sobbing, chestnut brown eyes watching him accusingly as he lifted his wand towards her. Gods, he hated doing this. He hated that this was necessary. Damn the stupid girl for getting herself caught, he thought for the hundredth time. He took a deep breath, and summoned all his hatred. There was so much of it. “Crucio!”

As the light hit her the girl shrieked and thrashed about on the floor. Her arms and legs twisted as her head whipped back and forth. It was hard to concentrate on holding the curse when all he wanted to do was end it, but he held on tight to the strongest hatred he had, the one that never failed him; his hatred for himself.

When he reached twenty seconds he ended the curse and bend down again to sift through her mind. Her cries ended, though her chest heaved. No sobbing this time. As he grabbed her head to hold her still again she looked up into his eyes. “Why?” she whispered.

He wished he could answer her. Because I must. Instead he ignored the imploring eyes that were begging him to confess all and slipped into her mind. He felt her shudder at the intrusion. Before she had come back into his life he hadn’t thought he could hate himself any more. He had been so wrong.

A few minutes later Snape pulled back out, and lay her back on the floor to recover. Sitting down in his chair he thought carefully. So the girl was worried that she was ill. The idea had some merit. There were many muggle illnesses that were all but unknown in the wizarding world. If it came down to it he could always offer the idea up as a way to buy time for the girl.

His eyes fell to the girl who was lying motionless on his carpet. Her breathing had steadied and some colour was beginning to return to her cheeks. If only she hadn’t been so bloody stubborn she wouldn’t have exhausted her body before he even started cursing her. He hadn’t meant for her to stay on her knees for so long. Snape had thought she would speak out much earlier, but the determined set of her jaw had told him otherwise, and he had decided to wait until she caved and said something. Bloody Gryffindor pride.

Snape also hadn’t wanted to perform the Cruciatus on her that evening, knowing that she would be tired from the intrusion into her memory. He hadn’t planned on her violent reaction to him, but he had known that the Dark Lord would not understand if he hadn’t punished her for it immediately. Another fuck up… He’d forgotten to give her the bloody potion the previous evening before wiping her memory. If he had just remembered, then she wouldn’t have flown off the handle like that. He gingerly touched the swollen flesh under his right eye. The girl had a strong arm. He smirked at the thought of Draco complaining of the same thing a few years ago.

The whole evening had just been one fuck up after the other. How had he let it go so wrong? He needed to stay in control of the situation, or they were going to get discovered. It was all her fault. She constantly kept him off balance. He’d been about to remind her to take her potion the night before he obliviated her, when she’d bent over and kissed him on his cheek, the same one that was now red and swollen, and whispered her thanks. He had been caught off guard, and had completely forgotten the potion. He hadn’t deserved her thanks, but the kiss had warmed his insides slightly, and he had even forgotten himself so much as to smile slightly at her. She had just laughed softly at him.

His other big mistake had been searching for that damn memory. He’d known about the conversation in the Gryffindor dorms, the thought of it still made him blush, and he’d purposely looked for it this time so he could see what the Dark Lord had been referring to when he had mentioned something about her in a bath. He’d justified looking for it to himself by saying he needed to know in case the Dark Lord mentioned it further, but he knew it was just an excuse to see what she’d been doing while thinking about him.

What he had found had astonished him greatly. The conversation had been bad enough, but the image of her lying in the bath had been more than he could take, and he had been sucked into the memory more strongly than he had intended. He couldn’t recall ever having felt another’s emotions so fully. For a while he had become her, reaching down to stroke herself gently, feeling the warmth spread between her legs as he had pushed his fingers inside her.

As her orgasm had built he had found himself whispering her name against her neck, and had suddenly come to his senses, realising he had actually pushed her onto the floor and his fingers were moving in and out of her in time with her memory. Shit! Shit! Shit.

Snape looked down at himself. Just the thought of it and he was rock hard again. He had never experienced anything like that while searching someone’s mind. He couldn’t believe the girl had actually entertained such thoughts of him. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. Apart from horny as hell.

Snape looked across at the girl again. She still hadn’t moved. “Get up, girl,” he said as sharply as he could manage. She immediately rolled over and unsteadily got to her feet. He pulled his robes quickly around him, hiding the traces of his erection. “Take your potion.” He pointed to the vial he had pulled from the cupboard earlier.

She took it without a word and downed it, putting the empty vial back on the table. He took another from out of a pocket in his robes and handed it to her, indicating that she should take it. She frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t question him. As she put the vial down she began to sway on her feet. That worked fast. She must have been really exhausted. As she began to fall he quickly stood up to catch her, picking her up in his arms and carrying her to his bedroom.

He tucked her under his sheets carefully, pulling the blankets up to her neck. Her hair fanned out over the pillow in a halo. He stroked it gently. Who would have thought it would be so soft? Snape knew it was probably the wrong thing to do to put her into his bed this evening. But he had an overwhelming urge to hold her in his arms. Whether it was more for her comfort or his own her wasn’t sure. How will I be able to explain this to her. She had forgiven him before. Would she be able to do so again?

Snape prepared himself for bed, taking a quick shower, where he relieved himself of the pent up frustrations of the day. He desperately tried to think of something else besides the girl as he stroked himself firmly, but he failed utterly, and he had to bit his tongue in an effort to stop himself groaning her name as he came.

Feeling slightly ashamed of himself – he hadn’t needed to do that in a long time, he was normally so careful to keep his emotions and needs supressed – he dried himself quickly with his wand and dressed for bed. He was just pulling back the sheets on his side of the bed when he remembered he had agreed to that blasted painting’s request to go speak to him after dealing with the girl. Damn! I could do without having to listen to his babbling this evening. He grabbed a robe and slipped out of the bedroom quietly.

AS usual the paining in question was oozing. “Albus,” Snape called loudly, as he began to pace backward and forwards in front of it. Dumbledore woke with a start and peered down at him. “Severus, my boy, how did it go this evening. You seem rather worked up. Did you do a convincing job of searching her memories?”

“That was the only part of the evening that went to plan.” Snape threw himself down in his chair moodily. “I forgot to give her her damn potion last night and completely forgot about it until she attacked me. I was forced to punish her in some way so I decided I may as well start ‘investigating’ her memory loss.”

“What could have caused Miss Granger to do such a thing?” said the painting, eyeing him up as he ran his fingers across the red lines left by her nails. “You must have done something to provoke her, even without your special calming draught.”

Snape reddened. The damn painting was too like the real thing, always seemingly knowing everything. “I don’t feel like discussing it,” he snapped, unwilling to admit to something so embarrassing. “Now, was there anything else in particular you wanted to discuss?”

“Ah yes. I think it would be a good idea to use the excuse of these ‘tests’ of her memory to give Miss Granger some time to work on her task. From what I can tell the end is coming soon and she needs as much time as possible.”

Snape groaned quietly. “She just had a whole bloody weekend of taking up my whole library and asking her irritating questions. What could she possibly be doing that would take so long?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, my boy. You just have to give Miss Granger as much help as she asks of you.”

Snape growled uncharitably under his breath. He hated the whole charade, but showing her the memories each time was the worst part of the whole ordeal, waiting anxiously as she viewed both his own painful memories as well as her own. He hated her understanding. “Fine,” he huffed. “But since we are running short of time I would suggest only showing her the memories that she needs for her task and you can convince her to trust me.” It would cut down on time and have the added benefit of leaving her still slightly mistrustful of him, so he would maybe be spared the constant questioning. “I can only risk another day. We can’t afford for the Dark Lord to become suspicious if she loses too much time.”

Dumbledore’s portrait smiled down at him knowingly. How the hell does a painting manage to get his eyes to twinkle like that? Meddling old fool! He didn’t like the feeling that it knew what his real reason for not showing the girl everything were.

“If you insist, Severus,” the portrait said finally.

“If that is all, Albus? I would like to get some sleep this evening.”

“Yes, my boy, Goodnight!”

Snape only huffed in response, already having turned his back on the painting. He quickly made his way back to his room, climbing into his bed quietly and extinguishing the candles with a flick of his wand. The girl had rolled onto her side while he had been out. Feeling the need to touch her, Snape reached out and gently pulled her back against his chest, knowing the sleeping draught would prevent her from waking. He wrapped his arm around her, and burying his nose in her neck, he fell quickly asleep, comforted by the warmth of the small body he held close to him.
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Memories of Deception